


Public Affairs

by TheStraggletag



Series: Starbucks Series [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Starbucks Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStraggletag/pseuds/TheStraggletag
Summary: Nick and Belle’s relationship is still fresh and new and they both agree the best course of action is keep it private, at least for a while. And Nick is completely fine with that. Totally.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: Starbucks Series [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/19414
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Public Affairs

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few months after Addiction.

Nick hadn’t much minded that Belle was dedicating a lot of her waking hours to her new role as Mallory Ficent’s PA. It was a position to die for (as well as a possible cause of death according to the rumour mill) and Belle had worked hard during her internship to get it. In the interest of avoiding any future misunderstanding she’d disclosed their relationship with her employer. To her credit Mal was of the strong opinion that Belle was her own woman and that who she dated mattered not as long as she was capable of separating business from pleasure. The few times they’d seen each other in public she’d given him a passing withering stare, but nothing more.

Even so he always more than welcomed whatever time alone they could squirrel away for themselves, and it so happened that Belle had texted him about one such opening. A whole weekend to themselves starting Friday afternoon after a business event at Uni Global, one he was also attending. They would discreetly leave together and head to his penthouse for a weekend of old movies, decadent food and drink and unrealistic amounts of sex.

He had made all the necessary preparations. He’d purchased some gelatto from Grom- Gianduia and Fiordilatte, Belle’s favourites, and Tiramisú for him- had added a few promising movies to his Netflix list, had stocked up on eggs and smoked salmon for their breakfast and had acquired a vast array of undergarments and nightgowns from _La Perla_ for when he inevitably lost his patience with Belle’s underthings in the heat of the moment.

The event itself was more of a networking affair than anything else, and it required little of his attention. He was at a stage in life where people wanted to make his acquaintance and not the other way around. His job was to stand and seem approachable or not depending on who was trying to have a word with him. It wasn’t a complete waste of time; hands were shook, vague promises were made and interesting information was exchanged, but nothing that required all of his attention. Which meant, of course, that every now and then his eyes could scan the room and rest upon Mal’s hard-working PA, demurely dressed in a grey Valentino fit-and-flare dress she’d found on sale at Bergdorf Goodman. It was plain but it fit her well and she’d paired it with a red belt and shoes for a little bit of flair. As a PA a lot of her clothes were supposed to be understated, but Mal did not mind if she spiced it up a bit. Nick wagered she liked it. Belle’s backbone was, without a doubt, one of the most attractive parts of her.

She was flitting about the room, making sure everything went as seamlessly as possible, and checking in on Mal every now and then, no doubt ready to estrincate her from mediocre company the moment the older woman gave her some sort of prearranged sign. He often did the same himself. Fidgeting with his pocket square brought Mary Margaret running over with a vague reference to “something that required his immediate attention” every time. Woman had the eyes of a hawk, never missed the signal, which is probably one of the main reasons why he kept her around and paid her so well.

He kept his distance, content with admiring her from afar as she checked in with the catering staff. Every now and then she’d smile his way and that was enough for him. They had agreed that they wouldn’t seek each other out. They weren’t about to hide their relationship but there was no need to advertise it either. A smooth, slow transition into the public eye seemed best.

He frowned when he got a glimpse of Keith Nott, Mal’s Junior VP of Accounting, leaning over a little too much in front of Belle, pointing at the pomegranate pin above her left breast before actually extending a meaty hand to touch it. He had gifted it to her, a souvenir from his two-day trip to Granada. He had bought a lot of things as a way to cope with missing her, and though she hadn’t accepted some of his more extravagant purchases she’d fallen in love with the pomegranate pin at first sight. It irked him to see the buck’s meaty, uncoordinated hands touching it almost as much as it infuriated him to see any parts of Mr Nott anywhere near Belle.

He’d seen him circling her before, like an ungainly vulture. But he’d let it slide because the idiot had at least minded his manners. But as the event had progressed that had become less and less the case. Mr Nott was a new legacy hire, as it were, the firstborn son of one of the big shareholders under Mal. His title was just that, and his main function was to network and schmooze, because the Dragonlady had made it clear there would be no growth opportunities for him within the company. But being young and new it seemed he had gotten carried away with the complimentary champagne going around, a rookie mistake. He would almost feel sorry for him is his new lack of inhibitions hadn’t led him to corner Mal’s PA near the sweets table, using his ridiculously tall stature to loom over her in an almost threatening manner.

They had agreed to keep a low profile, he reminded himself as he strolled over, his grip on the gold handle of his cane tightening when he saw fucking Keith curl a lock of Belle’s hair around his fingers and pull, the gesture likely meant to be playful and suggesting but looking rather painful as he pulled a little hard when Belle tried to take a step back. He bet the lad was not drunk enough to have missed the fact that his would-be conquest was unlikely to wish to call attention to herself, lest she risk the event, so she could hardly tell him off or raise a fuss. Neither could she leave the premises before Mal gave her the okay to do so. Captured prey, as it were. The preference of pampered, spoiled predators. Lucky for Nick he was the big cat around, and no one messed with him or his.

“Everything looks wonderful, sweetheart.”

There was no need to raise his voice, or make a spectacle. He kept his tone soft, an accented burr that usually meant people bent over backwards to try and catch everything he said, lest they inconvenience him. He slipped his free arm around Belle’s waist and kissed the side of her head, catching the faint orange blossom smell of her perfume. She was wearing the scent he liked best on her, the demi-bespoke Fleur Narcotique they had picked together last fall. 

“Thanks darling.”

She relaxed against him, warm and soft and completely at ease and he breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a gamble, to be so open without having discussed it, but he’d read her unease well. And, after all, it was all inevitable. Might as well get people used to it sooner rather than later. And it was amusing, really, to see the welp lose all his ill-deserved cockiness and turn white as a sheet. Nick didn’t need to glance towards were Nott Senior was to know the old man was mimicking his son in complexion. Funny how the man hadn’t even batted an eye when it looked like all his young progeny was doing was harassing a woman who could not tell him loudly to go fuck himself.

Keith seemed to pull himself together as much as he possibly could, straightening up and offering his hand.

“Keith Nott, Mr Gold, it’s a pleasure.”

Nick took a step forward, letting the tip of his cane dig deep into one of the man’s Oxfords. He took the offered hand, squeezing hard and smiling sharply.

“I’m sure it is. And I see you’ve met my girlfriend.”

He thought saying the term out loud would make him feel foolish or old, but it didn’t. Though it felt like it wasn’t enough to encompass all that Belle meant to him it filled him with pride nevertheless. 

“Yeah, I-”

“And you’ve been following her around. Cornering her in places. Leaning menacingly into her space and the like. Hardly appropriate behaviour in polite society.”

The idiot was starting to sweat, and he was sure he had the eyes and ears of everyone in the room. The threat had been delivered, the message received. No need to prolong the encounter. He snapped his fingers in the general direction of one of Mal’s other VPs, this one a dark-haired Englishman that has been hand picked by the dragon herself. Smart as a whip, and Belle often spoke well of him. Came from humble origins, if his unrefined accent was anything to go by. 

“Mr Ravenwood, I believe our friend here has drunk rather a little too much and finds himself indisposed. It would be better for everyone involved if he was escorted out as discreetly as possible.”

There was no way to do anything discreetly, not with everyone staring at them, but it was certainly possible for the company to save a bit of face. Dylan, to his credit, handled the situation with aplomb and, dare he say it, a little bit of relish, taking the taller man firmly by both arms and making it seem like they were engaged in lighthearted conversation as he dragged him away. No wonder he was Mal’s little pet. Kid had potential. No doubt he’d be able to use the incident and a few others to unseat the young Nott in no time. Perhaps he could lend a bit of a helping hand in there.

“Belle, dear, everything’s gone splendidly. I think you’ve more than earned a bit of a head start on your weekend plans. Leave any last-minute instructions with Dylan and then you and I presume Nick can go enjoy yourselves.”

Mal had appeared out of nowhere and he wondered for a moment how it was possible for a 5’9’’ woman wearing ten inch heels to appear without making a sound or being seen. The smile she directed at Belle seemed genuine and reassuring, which put the younger woman at ease. It wasn’t until she was out of their view that she dropped it.

“What the fuck, Nick?”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“I mean the macho posturing that’s gonna be the fucking talk of the town for a week, instead of the project I just unveiled.”

He bristled at her affronted tone.

“Well, I couldn’t very well let a fucking boy green between the ears manhandle Belle. It’s not my fault that you let it go on for as long as it did.” When he saw she was about to defend herself he cut her off. “Oh, I can imagine what this was about. You wanting to get rid of the little idiot, and him causing a scene when Belle was finally forced to slap him or otherwise put him in his place would’ve given you a nice bit of ammo. And Belle, bless her soul, wouldn’t have batted an eye at being used like that. Doesn’t mean I have to like it or tolerate it.”

She scoffed, but she looked like she grudgingly agreed with him. She snatched a vodka Martini from a passing waiter, not ready to give up the fight.

“We need to meet and hash this out properly. Go and enjoy your little weekend of sin as much as your old age allows you to but come Monday we’ll sit down and come up with an arrangement. Do’s and don’ts of sharing Belle’s time and attention.”

“A contract? What an ingenious thought.”

He tried not to let his glee show. Contracts were his purview, his stock and trade. There was no way he’d ever negotiate a bad contract. Mal was going to regret ever coming up with the idea.


End file.
